April 24, 7:45 WBAI 99.5 fm. A check on our progress as American Muslims; and, Lynne Stewart: the Peoples' Lawyer.

See Ramzy Baroud's assessment on how our Muslim community misuses celebrity Muslims as surrogates for their own stuggle.

Monday April 17 WBAI Radio, NYC. Why is there essential no anti-war movement in the USA?

April 10; A critical look at media coverage of the US assault on Syria; and an update on ReclaimNY.

B. Nimri Aziz weekly radio commentary on events around the globe and in the USA. Listen in at 99.5 fm, or online www.wbai.org where we are livestreamed.

"We are more alike than we are different"

Maya Angelou

March 8, Women's Day Radio Specials 10-11 am on WJFF Radio, 90.5 fm, and 11:am on WBAI, 99.5 New York: B. Nimri Aziz interviews director Amber Fares about her new film "Speed Sisters" and exerpts from 2009-2010 interviews with professional women in Syria, Nadia Khost and Nidaa Al-Islam.

As a Black writer, I was expected to accept the role of victim. That made it difficult in the beginning to be a writer. James Baldwin

I often feel that there must have been something that I should’ve done that I didn’t do. But I can’t identify what it is that I didn’t do. That’s the first difficulty. And the second is, what makes you think you’re it?

Harry Belafonte, activist and singer at 89

It ain't what you don't know that gets you into trouble; It's what you know for sure that just ainst so.

Mark Twain

You can't be brave if you've only had wonderful things happen to you.

Mary Tyler Moore

You can’t defend Christianity by being against refugees and other religions

Pope Francis:

"I don't have to be what you want me to be". Muhammad Ali

"The Secret of Living Well and Longer: eat half, walk double, laugh triple, and love without measure" attributed to Tibetan sources

Articles

Move Over

2000-01-10

by Barbara Nimri Aziz

We are the spreaders of payer rugsin highway gas stations at dawn.We are the fasters at company banquetsbefore sunset in Ramadan. We wear veils and demin,prayer caps and T-shirts.We don't know what to do at weddings:wear white and cut the cake,or red and receive garlands,sing rap songs or rap tambourines.It doesn't matter. We will intermarryand co-mingleand multiply.Oh, how we'll multiplythe number of Mohammed-loving Muslimsin the motley miscellany of the land.

Mohja Kahf

"Move Over" is the title of a poem by Mohja Kahf. And for me it is a
statement that Western feminists need to hear. It is time for Western
feminists to step aside and let women from other parts of the world
speak. Why is it that feminists who serve as book editors and
conference organizers urge me to talk about my victimization at the
hands of my brother, husband, or another Arab man? Why won’t they hear
me explain the injustices of Western actions, for example, in the Gulf
War? These women, perhaps more than my Arab brother, are an obstacle to
my true liberation.

Do you remember the opening passages of Maxine Hong Kingston’s The
Woman Warrior, or Alice Walker’s The Color Purple, or Nawal
el-Saadawi’s The Hidden Face of Eve? I cannot forget them, and you,
too, may remember how each opens with a powerful scene of a woman being
abused. Either she is raped, or driven to suicide, or violated in some
other way. A coincidence? "Abused Third World Women." Is such a
portrayal a fair reflection of reality, or a pre-judgment? By selecting
these themes, can publishers of our work influence our voice?

The books I note, and many more like them, were celebrated in the
West, especially by feminists. As a result, they appear in many world
literature courses and are a must on any women’s studies college
reading list. Even high school teachers assign these books. Think about
receptive young readers eager to learn about the wider world. Often
these stories are the first image young people have of Asians,
Africans, or Arabs.

Why do so many stories about third world women portray us as
victims? I only began to ask myself this question very late in the game
because it took me years to break through the conditioning and to say,
"Wait a minute. Is this really what I am?" Finally, when I did speak
out, Western feminists responded that, "The world must understand what
hardships you face." Moreover, they maintain, "These sufferings bond
women worldwide. These stories arouse interest where, before, there was
none at all. We take pity on you."

Why do we need bonds of suffering to unite us? And why do stories of
our suffering seem to dominate what is published, and thereby what is
known about us? I am speaking not only about Asian, African, and Arab
women but also about those of us identified as Hindu, Muslim,
African-American, Nicaraguan, or Bosnian—all so-called third world
women.

In the United States, the power centers are the Congress, the
judiciary, corporate boards, the clergy—Muslim, Christian, Buddhist,
and Jewish—the military, and the press. All these remain entrenched
male domains. Before the Western feminist movement began in the 1970s,
scholars, journalists, and activists gave little thought to the power
of our patriarchy here. Then feminists began to expose social
inequities and call for a balance. There were some changes, and some
women entered places where they had once been excluded. Yet gains were
limited.

So I can’t help wondering: is it possible that, because of their
frustration over limited success at home, feminists have shifted their
attention to women worldwide? Are these women distorting the third
world situation to create a winning argument for themselves at home—to
make it appear they are really better off, after all? And why the focus
on the abuse of third world women at the hands of their patriarchal
systems? What about the exploitation of third world women by
international corporations, by arms suppliers from the industrial
world?

The Arab or Muslim woman is a prime example of the edgy relationship
that third world women have with Western women. Recall Taslima Nisrine,
the lately celebrated writer in Bangladesh. She was publicly denounced
in some circles within Bangladesh because she had criticized some
interpretations of the Qur’an. Newspapers worldwide rushed to report
how rampaging hoards of Muslim men were out to kill her. What a boon
for Western feminists! They could expose the excesses of Islam, and its
abuse of women, especially those who aspire to be freethinkers. In the
end, Western women offered Nisrine and other Muslim women little real
assistance. (Nisrine herself, I was told, was aware that she might be
exploited by Western women if she called for their help.) Before this,
Nisrine’s writing hadn’t interested American readers, and her work was
not translated into English. But once she Wt the stereotype promoted by
feminists—sure enough, a collection of her work is being translated for
publication by a major house in the United States. Meanwhile, the
American public was left with the impression of another ugly incident
from the "undeveloped, extremist" third world.

Let’s come back to the roles of American women. Where are American
women effective today? Few women, regrettably, have risen to positions
of power in the Senate or in corporate America. One place they seem to
be more influential is the local media and publishing. Feminists have a
major impact on what is published about women in the world and thereby
on what is taught about other societies in schools and colleges.

The Arab or Muslim woman finds herself defined by experts in women’s
studies. Repeatedly we find the same simplistic presentations. First,
we are perceived as weak. Second, we are seen as victim. Third, our
oppressor is typically a male relative. Fourth, we appear uneducated
and incapable of managing without outside help—namely support,
publicity, and ministering from those already educated and liberated,
the capable Western women. Fifth, the Arab or Muslim woman is caged and
needs to be released. Everything is set up for the arrival of a fairy
godmother.

The pattern I speak about is very real, and I believe that it is by
design. It is not a conspiracy in itself. It is rather a natural
spin-off of arrogance. These women often exhibit the same patronizing
attitude for which they fault the men of their own society. Remember
their complaints of how they were criticized by men for their
oversensitivity and weakness? Aren’t they making the same accusation
toward Arab and Muslim women? Western women assume that they are
somehow historically better placed to take global leadership of women’s
issues—that they evolved ahead of others to an advanced stage of social
and sexual enlightenment.

The assumptions of Western women are unfounded. There is also a
racist element in their attitude. We have repeatedly tried to correct
this. But the many objections voiced by women worldwide are unrecorded
in the West. Americans and Europeans simply fail to hear third world
women when we call out to them, "Wait a minute! We do not all feel the
way such and such an author reports we feel. What about my brother?
What about my father? What about the strong among us?"

Meanwhile, to verify these Western claims, a select group of third
world authors are trotted from one TV round table to another, from one
feminist conference to the next, and featured in magazine stories on a
regular basis. Take the example of Arab women and the Egyptian writer,
Nawal el-Saadawi. Careful research by Amal Amireh, presented at the
1995 Middle East Studies Association conference, pointed out that
current editions of el-Saadawi’s work in English have been altered to
overemphasize violence to women and demonstrate apparent intolerance in
Islam. Perhaps against her own wishes, el-Saadawi has found her work
used by others to try to illustrate the general oppression of Islam
toward women.

The best known books about Arab and Muslim women are, in any case,
not by Arab authors, but by American women. Anne Mahmoody’s book Not
Without My Daughter has been made into a successful film. More
recently, in the wake of the Gulf War, we have Price of Honor, by Jan
Goodwin, and Nine Parts of Desire, by Geraldine Brooks. Goodwin and
Brooks (both journalists) draw on the research of Arab women scholars,
and therefore bring an "insider" authority to their claims.

As third world women, we must not be intimidated. We must ask: Why
this fascination, this curiosity, this obsession with the lives of Arab
and Muslim women, almost to the exclusion of other subjects? And what
happens to our male writers?

We have many male novelists of the caliber of Nobel laureate Naguib
Mahfouz. Yet few are published abroad and most remain unknown outside
the Arab world. Many find themselves overlooked in favor of Arab women
writers who are, perhaps, less accomplished. And, when Arab male
writers are sought out, it is less for their humanistic creative work
and more for their analyses of Middle East political events. But that’s
another story.

In the end, let us recognize that Western feminism, including its
academic dimension, has its cultural context and its political agenda.
The women who embrace us and pander to us as victims must step back.
Then they must learn to take our strength with our weakness.

Kahf's poem "Move Over" appeared in the 1990 # 36 issue of The
Exquisite Corpse, Journal of Books and Ideas, Baton Rouge, Louisiana.

(The copyright on this essay is held by the author. For permission to duplicate: copyright@cunepress.com